


Under Scarlet Skies

by TasteTheHemospectrum



Series: Papyrus and Poppies [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Ancient Egypt, Ancient Egyptian Deities, Human Sacrifice, Humanstuck, M/M, ancient egyptian au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-08 14:54:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18896893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TasteTheHemospectrum/pseuds/TasteTheHemospectrum
Summary: A young man with no family at the bottom rung of the social ladder is sacrificed to one of the most revered gods in all of Egypt. If only said god would keep his shirt on.Ancient Egyptian AU





	Under Scarlet Skies

    He wasn’t supposed to die this way. Or at least, not this soon. 

    It was too dark to see anything more than the vaguely human-shaped mass laid on the cot against the wall. Was it not for the laborious breathing that had been scraping at Karkat’s eardrums at all hours of the night, the body would have been unidentifiable under the copious layers of frayed blankets. The moment that Karkat had realized that the raspy wheezing had ceased, he had scrambled out of bed to check on him. 

    The caretaker had already been standing over his father’s cot when Karkat had made it over to him. She blocked Karkat’s way with a single lean arm and took him by the shoulders to pull him close to her side. It was for the best; he didn’t know what could’ve happened if she had let him touch the body, but he doubted that he’d ever be able to leave his, its, side. Instead, he allowed her to guide him away into another room. 

    Karkat was too stunned to really maintain his grasp on the reality, and the leaden presence of slumber kept him mentally treading water. The physical sensations that he managed to register were few and far in between. His extremities were cold and prickled. His innards felt taut and course. The caretaker’s hands left fading warmth on his arms and shoulders. His eyelids felt swollen and sore, even though he hadn’t cried yet. The fibrous blanket laid over him scraped at his skin and left his exposed stomach feeling raw. 

    For the first time in a while, sleep was merciful enough to overtake him swiftly.

 

* * *

 

    Karkat slept restlessly, his dreams infested with fear and grief. This was nothing new. By morning, he felt more exhausted than he had been that night before. Numbness enveloped his senses now, and all he really felt was the weight of fatigue and the hot nausea eating away at his stomach and the back of his throat. Despite the nightmares that seemed to consistently plague his sleep, Karkat wished that he could just fall back into slumber instead of getting up and facing the world, but he forced himself upright in bed anyways. 

    As he got out of bed and made his way through the house, it felt more like he was being dragged by some invisible force rather than carried by his own two feet. In the kitchen, the caretaker was already finishing up her breakfast with her plate neatly nestled in her lap. Beside her was another plate of bread and labna waiting for Karkat. He feigned an appetite and forcedhimself to eat. 

    “Thanks, Kanaya,” he muttered around a mouthful of coarse bread.

    She smiled kindly to him in response, too polite to talk while she ate. 

    They fell into a silence that should have been comfortable but instead felt thick and oppressive like the humid heat of the season. The space between them was cold and empty. While neither spoke, both knew why the mood had so drastically changed. Sure, death ordinarily brought people, even them, together, but Karkat’s inevitable, looming future created more distance than ever. It manifested in the hesitation each of them held: Kanaya’s role was to care for Karkat ever since his father had fallen ill, but she felt uncertain about reassuring him now, and Karkat suddenly felt too awkward to indulgein the comfort she could provide.

    He should have probably taken the opportunity to relinquish his composure and slot himself in her lean arms one more time, but he couldn't find it in himself to move any closer to her. He only finished his cheese and gritty cornbread, left his plate beside Kanaya, and returned to his room to dress himself alone. Although dread for what awaited him filled that hollow feeling that shock had left in his stomach, he nonetheless slipped on his nicest garb. Even if it wasn’t expected of him, Karkat wanted to at least go out in his best.

 

* * *

 

    It was dusk when they came. Karkat was uncomfortably restless after a day saturated with anticipation and uncertainty. He was still skittish because of it but nearing the cusp of fatigue, and when he heard the voices at the door, he feared that he would see the roast goose he had eaten for dinner. Kanaya was holding the front door open when Karkat stepped out of the bedroom. Most of the priests were already inside. 

    The man who was presumably the head priest gave Karkat a nonchalant, lopsided smile, but for some reason, it seemed insincere and unsettled Karkat even more. “Evening, brother,” the man greeted Karkat as he strode up to shake his hand. “It’s a motherfucking shame to hear what happened to your poor old man, but let’s remind ourselves that tonight ain’t a time for no mourning.” He turned to the rest of the cult and opened his arms in invitation. The other clergymen murmured excitedly in agreement. 

    When the man turned back to Karkat, he placed his uncomfortably warm hands on Karkat’s shoulders. Karkat attempted to twist away from the unwelcome touch, but his grip was unyielding as he continued loud enough for the clergy to hear. “It is a night of celebration, for this shameful, worthless motherfucking pebble in the river of society is gonna become treasured beyond belief as a gift to the gods!” This time, the numerous priests behind him shouted exuberantly. The man’s grin widened. “Come now, brothers; let us not leave Horus to wait any longer!” With that, one of his hands dropped to Karkat’s wrist, and he turned to head for the door with Karkat in tow. 

    “Wait!” Kanaya called to Karkat in a soft voice. When he looked back at her over his shoulder as he staggered after the priest, she reached out for him, her expression was twisted with fear and despair. He tried to take her hand, but a sharp yank to his other arm reduced a brief grasp between them to a mere moment of contact between their finger pads. He opened his mouth to say something, but another priest promptly shut the door between them. 

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to the editors who have helped me revise and review my earlier drafts for these first few chapters.  
> I encourage those of you with questions or suggestions to comment them here or send them on the blog dedicated to this series: https://underscarletskies.tumblr.com/  
> Please remember that I am not an expert on ancient Egyptian history or mythology.  
> Thanks for reading!


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